I Must Not Tell Lies
by MermaidGirl34
Summary: It is clear that things are out of hand at Hogwarts. Actions must be taken, and Dumbledore's unhealthy grip on the school must be vanquished. Order must reign, the truth must be set, and the lies uprooted from the underage communities mind-particularly, the deluded and mislead Harry Potter. The task is daunting, but Dolores Jane Umbridge is up for the challenge. Drabble Collection.
1. Order in the Court

**(A/N: Revised first chapter. Thanks to Daughter of the Full Moon for pointing out my technicality error!)**

Dolores processed the name of the accused quietly.

A smile wormed its way onto her face as the Wizengamot settled and she fixed her eyes on the door.

She had been waiting to hear from this particular individual. This, she thought, was not going to be another dry case of underage magic.

The heavy dungeon door opened and slammed loudly as he entered, footfalls echoing on the stone floor. He took his seat as he was told, eyeing the chains attached to it rather worriedly. Dolores smiled lightly at his concern.

The hearing began. Everything was organized. Orderly.

That was, until _he _entered.

Dolores' smile left in an instant and her eyes narrowed.

Dumbledore.

The last thing they needed was _that _walking bad influence here!

After a moment, the Wizengamot recovered and order was restored. Dolores relaxed. Slightly.

Charges were read and the boy denied nothing, as he should. But he also claimed that Dementors were the reason of his offense.

A smug smile dominated Dolores' toad-like face for a moment as the Wizengamot processed this outlandish claim. _Liar, _she mouthed softly at the boy from the shadows, before making her face emotionless once again.

The smirk stayed internally though, and she celebrated her success inside a bit. Sending the dementors after the boy had definitely been for the best. _Somebody _had to take action, and it might as well be her!

After all, Harry Potter was a liar. A liar who only wanted to spread fear in the Wizarding world with his rumors of You-Know-Who's return. A liar who was blindly following Dumbledore's misguided and poisoness direction.

He needed to be stopped, and the Dementors had succeeded.

Or so she thought, until Dumbledore had the audacity to accuse the Ministry of sending the Dementors!

Now that she could not stand for!

"Excuse me, Professor Dumbledore," she objected politely, infuriated. How dare him! "So silly of me, but it sounded for a teensy moment as though you were suggesting that the Ministry of Magic had ordered an attack on this boy!"

Her eyes blazed as the man simply smiled and counteracted her statement. This manner continued from there, and it was clear that the hearing had turned so it was no longer in the Ministry's favor.

The question was asked. Dolores voted conviction, reviewing the teenager before her and noting his attempts to gain Dumbledore's attention. It was obvious he admired him.

This bothered her. No young wizard should admire such a man.

To her displeasure, the ruling was cleared of all charges and the hearing was ended. Dolores left with disdain, but also with a new thought.

Things had clearly gone wrong at Hogwarts. Dumbledore's influence was strong and misleading, and he already had his teeth sunk deep into Mr. Potter's unsuspecting young brain.

What the boy needed was proper guidance. A good dose of reality and a Ministry-approved education!

Dumbledore's madness needed to be stopped.

And someone needed to teach Mr. Potter that lying would not be tolerated.


	2. The Perfect Woman

_Tap._

The pink quill tapped nervously on the side of the desk.

A moment later, the door squeaked and opened.

Dolores stopped tapping.

Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, entered through her office door, offering her a smile.

"Hello Cornelius," she said.

"Good evening, Dolores," he sighed tiredly. It was nearly midnight.

"You were successful?"

"I was."

"Did he disapprove?"

"I'm afraid so."

Dolores sneered. "You're right, Minister," she cooed. "He's self-righteous. He doesn't see how he is hurting the children."

"Yes, you're right, Dolores," Cornelius agreed. "Hogwarts needs guidance."

"And I know you are the perfect woman for the job."


	3. Holes

The office was much too drab, Dolores decided.

Yes, a proper makeover was certainly in order. Pink would do. Pink would do very nicely.

This decided, Dolores sat down at her desk and methodically began straightening her quills, making sure each were exactly an inch apart and her ink was out of reach of her lists, so there was no chance of spill.

The door opened quietly, and a stern-looking witch entered. Dolores looked up and smiled sweetly at her.

"Hello."

"Good evening, Professor. My name is Minerva McGonagall. I am Deputy Headmistress and a Transfiguration professor here, and I'd like to personally welcome you to Hogwarts," the witch introduced herself, not unkindly but straight to the point. "As Deputy Headmistress, I'll answer any questions you might have."

"Splendid!" Dolores responded lightly, finishing straightening her line of quills. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Minerva. I've heard much about you from Cornelius. We seem to be very like-minded women, you and I."

The deputy rose a single eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yes," Dolores continued, lacing her fingers together thoughtfully. "You seem like a grounded, reasonable witch. No nonsense, like myself. Surely you've noticed the holes in the web as I have?"

"And what holes would that be?"

"I think you know. Holes. Small ones that are gradually becoming bigger, worse and much more noticeable. Holes that certain people are enlarging. Holes that people like you and I can work together and fix."

Minerva's eyes narrow. "I don't like what you're implying."

"I'm not implying anything."

"Oh, yes, I believe you are. And I can tell you right now." Her eyes became hard and she leveled Dolores with a fierce glare. "I won't be part of it."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"No, you're not," McGonagall said coldly. "But I wouldn't expect you to. Good evening, Professor Umbridge."

"Good evening, Professor McGonagall."

The door closed with a loud snap and one of Dolores' quills rolled slightly out of place.

Dolores stared at the closed door for a moment, before silently fixing the quill once more.


	4. Take The Bait

The class began to file in and Dolores tapped her quill lightly on her attendance list, glancing at the names. Her eyes lingered on one in particular for a moment.

Her thoughts whirled in her brain. Finally.

The bell rang and she turned to address her class.

"Well, good afternoon!" she said sweetly, smiling sweetly.

A murmured response met her greeting.

"Tut, tut," she chided. "_That_ won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time. Good afternoon, class!"

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," the class repeated.

"There, now," Dolores said smoothly. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out."

The class began and ran smoothly from there. Dolores assigned them a section in their book to read, before promptly sitting back at her desk. Everything was going smoothly.

Until the Granger girl interfered.

Then all her careful lesson planning went down the drain.

Clearly, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teaching these students had received previous to her tuition had been more of a joke -a damaging joke - than she had thought. These students were horrifically misled and deluded! Not one student seemed to be willing to accept her – and by extension, the Ministry's – standard of teaching. This would _not _do.

Despite the disruption, Dolores managed to almost successfully shut down any rise of protest at her newly-introduced methods and return to her quiet order of bookwork.

That was, until Potter took the stage.

"What good's a theory going to be in the real world?" The unruly, disobedient boy said loudly, his fist raised high in the air in both a statement of a question and a bit of defiance. Dolores felt her blood begin to boil just at the sound of complete utter disagreement and rebellion in his voice, and she struggled to keep her cool.

"This is school, Mr. Potter, not the real world," she answered carefully.

"So we're not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting out there?"

"There is nothing's waiting out there, Mr. Potter."

"Oh yeah?" His temper was rising, Dolores could tell he was close to losing it and she pushed her own anger down in anticipation. _That's it, Mr. Potter. Lose it. Then we'll see whose all high and mighty._

"Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?" Dolores asked slowly, putting as much honey as possible in her voice as she spoke the carefully-worded question.

_That's it, boy. Take the bait. Say his name. It's the key to your downfall._

"Hmm, let's think…" Harry said in a mocking voice, his green eyes blazing with fire. "Maybe _Lord Voldemort?"_

The whole class gasped.

Dolores felt her fingers curl into fists as a small, satisfied expression crept into her features.

_Got him._

"Detention, Mr. Potter." Dolores said triumphantly. "Tomorrow evening. Five o'clock."

_Detention, tomorrow evening at five. _

_Come, Mr. Potter._

_ And prepare to be broken._


End file.
